


A Gift for Vermillion

by Clamdiver, Pearlybj



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Frottage, Multi, Oral Sex, Over the Top, Psychic Abilities, Romance, Sub!Dirk, Threesome - M/M/M, Video Game Mechanics, Xenophilia, anxiousness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-13
Updated: 2019-08-13
Packaged: 2020-08-23 21:56:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20236792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clamdiver/pseuds/Clamdiver, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearlybj/pseuds/Pearlybj
Summary: Alternatively titled Wang Dang Romantic TangoDirk needs to get wrecked by his boyfriends. He has a VERY IMPORTANT GOAL and is wound up, tense and snappy, so Karkat and Sollux interrupt his plans for MASTER ROMANCE, tie him up and just fuck it outta him. With xeno, BDSM, and soup.





	A Gift for Vermillion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [muchlessvermillion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/muchlessvermillion/gifts).

Who are you kidding? You know nothing about MASTER ROMANCE. A blushing red beauty, a date, a beautiful horse-drawn carriage, feelings bursting at the seams. You know the movie-glazed theory, you can do it. You _ did _ do it earlier. (The shetland ponies were the cutest motherfuckers.) But the theory isn’t enough for a dream date, not for your dream guy.

His eyes zip about the pavilion, evaluating what’s visible of the scenery in the half-light. You aren’t willing to fess up to the nervousness growing in your gut. Does he disapprove of what he sees?

You hope so.

Why else would you invite Karkat to this rooftop restaurant Gascoigne than to offend his eyes? The place is of the kitschy variety; you picked it not only for its sincerely ironic style but also the time-tested cliche of having a French name. Or French sounding. You don’t know shit about the language though you might pretend to know about French philosophers. Also you picked it for the potential for making fart jokes. Only the best for your date.

The pavilion seats 30, and none of the chairs are the same color for chrissake. It’s abhorrent. Naturally, you ask Karkat, “Looks great, right?”

“Sure, Dirk,” he agrees distractedly. A severe case of the jitters makes his leg bounce.

Rather than pointing it out, you offer your arm to your date like the southern gentleman you weren’t raised to be. Karkat looks mildly indignant but takes it.

It’s a nice evening, not too steamy with a decent breeze here and there to cool off the heat of midsummer. A romantic connoisseur might say it would be a damn near perfect night for a 

heartfelt proposal and some champagne kisses to top it off. The other patrons go wild and everyone’s just a tad moist in the eye. Fucking perfect.

From your extensive research, however, that shit was low tier romance. 

Diapers off kiddos, you intend to spoil your prickly pear in ways that will have him recalling this night to your hypothetical great grand human-troll monstrosities.

Right, where were you again?

Oh yeah, the host is taking you two over to your table. The thing is absolutley glorious with its eye-searing pattern combinations. You watch Karkat show a respectable amount of restraint by ignoring the frankenstein inspired tablecloth and diving into his menu. You sit down more carefully, making sure not to squish the box in your inventory.

The waiter has dialogue, but you click through it too fast to read. NPCs aren’t worth the time in your opinion.

Karkat disagrees, “Romance needs lickwords-“

“Flavortext,” you correct.

“-flavortext, sure. So give the pesky little crocbeasts a moment to dither on, dammit.”

“An ‘allo-gator you mean. Downright rude forgetting your own consorts. Cherish the little bastards; I didn’t even get any when I entered the medium.”

Karkat narrows his eyes at you. “You want them? Then take them from me.”

You bite down a silly grin. This is your favorite part, when he starts clawing back in your verbal volley, digging in hard enough to pop the metaphorical ball.

“I can,” you venture, “take them. A month is all I need to tear down their shrines dedicated to their most holy Knight of virtuous Blood.”

Karkat blushes furiously, darkened spots on his cheeks and ears. He mutters, “I doubt it. You can’t force it- you can’t break something like that. They’ll build new ones, bigger ones. They love those atrocious, ugly things.”

“They love you.”

He sucks in a heavy breath and comes up short. He goes for his glass of water instead.

You continue, “I need to win them over first, trick them into following me despite the whims of their shriveled fucking hearts. When they rebuild, it will be in my name, their Prince-”

“Ha!”

You startle a little at his outburst, but the smile looks good on him, so you let him interrupt, raising what is in your opinion an incredibly roguish brow at him.

“Dirk, you’d be better off hacking the fucking SGRUB code to gain a pile of idiotic freshwatermawbeasts than trying to woo them. Remember how wooing your human baby-ancestors went? And John and Jade? You’re clumsy like a wriggler. It’s cute.”

He’s right, but you do what you do best and stubbornly refuse to back down.

“Nonsense. Prince of Heart, sugar, breaking shit is included in the job fuckin’ description. I can handle a hoard or two of simpleminded gators.”

You shift your chair closer to his side of the table. It scrapes against the ground with an awful noise, and you wince at how painfully awkward you are, unromantic. It doesn’t matter. Persevere. Do it.

Gently, you place a hand on Karkat’s thigh. God, the tailoring on his suit makes him look sexy. Do you even look half as sexy? Your own suit is blood red, and you’re starting to think it’s more garish than anything- though still eye-catching. It’s still _ you _ wearing it, and you’re hot shit.

Voice rough and uneven, you tell him, “Start with the foundation, the base of the institution. Decon-fuckin-struct it bottom up.”

“What base?”

Gently, you stroke his inner thigh with your thumb, leaning in real close now. “They love you, Karkat.”

“Stop fucking saying all that shit about my consorts. It's not true devotion when it stems from the construct of an apocalyptic videogame.”

You scoff.

“We’re part of that same construct, whether you want to admit it or not. Our ectojizz is trapped within the confines of Sburbs coding. All gnarled and knotted together like some kind of scary sexy contortionist orgy. You don’t know if that’s your choice ass at the end or your brother’s. I’d prefer yours, though.”

Karkat pointedly refuses to look at the hand slowly creeping higher up his thigh, the flush crawling up his cheeks says otherwise. Heh, you both match.

You practically leap back in your chair when you see the little waiter gator has returned with the DELICIOUS LOOT. Your hand mourns the loss of your boyfriend’s choice thigh.

You’re greeting with a chipper “Allo!” and “Food is piping hot. Careful!”

A plate of smoked salmon drizzled with the allo’s infamously sweet glaze is set before you. The meat is pink and tender, contrasting nicely with the side of parmesan dusted fritas, golden brown. Your stomach demands immediate consumption.

Mentally, you will yourself not to look at Karkat’s plate and fail utterly.

The horror over there is not meant for the human palette. Or human EYES. It’s a large, white grub- a larva of the lusus naturae. The dripping, bulbous thing would’ve grown up to be some idiot troll’s daddy. Worse, it’s garnished with what looks suspiciously like smashed computer parts. _ Trolls. _

Karkat stares at you in horror. “What deep hell pit did that pink THING crawl out of? Why is it so flakey? And covered in sweet-fats? I might hurl up my munchbladder just looking at the damned thing.”

A laugh burbles its way up your throat, growing into a raucous sound. Seeing your dumb face, Karkat can’t help but join in.

“Don’t take it personally if I eat blindfolded. You’re still handsome as fuck.”

“Same to you, Strider. Except it’s very personal.”

You put a finger to Karkat’s -hella soft- lips and utter a prolonged ‘shh’.

You shush him. 

And shush him.

Karkat darts his eyes back and forth. Sweat is starting to form on his brow.

And- ah thank fuck the band got the hint and started to play. You will absolutely dock their pay later for being several seconds off time.

“You want true fuckin’ blue devotion? It’s right fuckin in front of you, baby. Those consorts ain’t got nuthin’ on the monument I’ll build for you. Shit’ll be fucking majestic, but really, how couldn’ it be when my muse is so damn fine. All across paradoxspace there will be a fuckin chorus of halle-mother-fuckin-looyah at the perfect curvature of this trolls godly glutes. I guess I’ll have to credit Captor somehow since he’s the one who programmed your game in the first place? The guy has taste, I will concede, but I can’t be outdone in the matters of the HEART.”

Karkat stares at you like you have one and a half heads. “What fresh roasted shit are you spewing? We were done talking about that overbaked joke already.”

Oh. Right. Maybe you should’ve filled in a different line there, something more romantic before the fireworks start.

...There are SUPPOSED to be fireworks starting. You checked the schedule over a dozen times. You’ll ask Karkat your QUESTION twenty-one minutes in, when the show goes quiet right before the big finale. Why haven’t they started yet?

“Dirk?”  


You send a quick message to the director. She takes an agonizingly long minute (forty nine seconds) to get back to you. Anxiously, you check on the little box in your inventory. Looks good.

According to the director, the fireworks are being postponed until the rain stops. ‘It should be an hour tops!’ as though an hour is an acceptable delay. _ Fuck. _ Rain? There must be brief showers down wind from the restaurant. How did you fail to notice? There weren’t any of these small, fluffy rain clouds in the dead world you lived in, but you should still recognize them. Stupid.

No, you can fix this. You just have to… text John, yes. Make him change the weather; he can blow the clouds away at a whim. He can fix your date.

“Hey puppetperv, I can see your glasses lighting up. Are you texting? And what in the spongeglob-tearing fuck are you nattering on about now?”

“Hang on babe, I gotta just tie up some loose-ends,” you say.

**TimaeusTestified BEGAN PESTERING EctoBiologist**

** TT: Yo, nerd **

** TT: No time to explain right now, but I am in need of some assistance of the atmospheric kind. **

** TT: Could use a little sunshine in my life right now is what I’m saying. **

** TT: Like, right now. **

** TT: If you help me out with this I’ll have your usual payment in the mail. **

** TT: 12lbs exactly. **

**TimaeusTestified CEASED PESTERING EctoBiologist**

Karkat stomps on your foot under the table.

_ “Ow. _ Sorry, I gotta piss quick,” you announce to the entire dining area. Ice clinks in glass and silverware is rested onto plates. Karkat stares at you with a look that is a mixture of utter bafflement and fury. Normally, you have to pull out your sickest and most top tier ironic gestures to get that out of him, but right now it’s making you even more uneasy.

“Dirk, are you sure you’re-”

Without another word you flashstep your way inside the building and with a quick cursory look, you find the men’s room. You rip open the door without knocking first and slam it shut behind you. Next to the sink, there is a one man stall; you only have a little bit of room to pace. You whip out your phone and call for backup.

After the fifth agonizing ring, a familiar voice drawls over the phone that is most certainly not Egbert. “What’s up?”

The plastic of the phone creaks in protest to your grip. “Dave, put captain blueballs on. This is a crucial matter.”

“Hopy shit, dude. Is this about the rain again? Just use an umbrella like everyone else. If you’re really feeling extra goddamn special, flashstep between raindrops. Whatever. I don’t care.”

You keep your voice as even as possible. “As much as I love you fantasizing about my sweet fuckin’ moves, now ain’t the time. Put Egbert on the line, _right_ now. Karkat is waiting for my uncouth ass. For the love of my little troll Jesus, don’t fuck this up for me.”

You hear some non distinctive shuffling on Dave’s end, then a gasp. Suddenly he shouts, “Nothing!” He lowers his voice to a whisper. “Oh, fuck yes. Bro, I gotta go. Shi-”

The call cuts off.

What. The. Fuck.

This is fine. Everything will be fucking _ fine. _ You are not even mildly concerned about what could fuck up your ULITIMATE DATE with the troll you fell in rock hard yaoiz with. Nothing will go wrong because you’ve _ got this _. This is nothing for a Strider. Striders handle their shit. Shit is so handled that…

No, no time for a mental rant; you’ve got to think fast. You already wasted fifteen minutes fucking around, you have six minutes left to pop the QUESTION if you want everything to line up perfectly, should the fireworks not be delayed.

No, it’s far too late for perfect. Should you just....wing it?

The echo of concerned, teasing remarks made by you friends and second significant other hound the back of your head. In the past, your narcissistic tendencies had cost you more than acts of grandeur supplied. That was a long time ago, but the structure of your mind hasn’t changed. You can’t “get better” at not being you, but you can at least try to diverge from unmitigated perfectionism.

You are startled out of your internal grousing by the sound (and feeling, holy shit) of rumbling. 

Time and space feel like a slow, honeyed drip as you move faster than ever you fucking have in your life prior. Not even a half-blink later are you at the glass door leading to the dining pavilion outside. It’s already begun to pour, a body of dark clouds cover the once clear sky.

Other patrons rush past you as they try to seek shelter from the abrupt summer rains. You pay their scrambling no heed as you rush to your table.

Karkat is still sitting in his chair.

He’s already soaked to the bone, and the rain pats down his bouncy locks like an overexcited pet owner. Karkat’s suit clings attractively to his chest and strong shoulders, but you shouldn’t be thinking about his tragic lack of nipples right now. Or perhaps that is how your brain is deciding to deal with the fact that this date has become a total washout and the object of your affection is just sitting shivering in the rain.

He looks at you with an expression that you can’t quite place and it isn’t helping you decide how the fuck you can salvage this moment. You open your mouth to say something, to apologize, make a joke, _ anything _, but find the words strangled in your throat.

Glorp.

The remaining half of Karkat’s dinner is washed right off the table by the rain. It hits the ground with a puff of some type of greenish smoke, followed by an unappetizing stench.

You point at it stupidly, mouth still agape.

Karkat sighs, “I was going to eat that for lunch tomorrow.”

You make another attempt to string together an apology in your head, but the words ring senselessly.

“I could always order a second fucking helping of the same thing if I’m feeling like an unadventurous whelp, but we should really just skip the takeout and get our asses home.”

“No!” you blurt. “We can’t go yet!”

Before you can wince out your own outburst, the rain stops cold.

Karkat says, “What in the bulgeguzzling fuck?”

You follow his gaze around to find you are no longer outside, being drenched to your balls with rain. In fact, you now have what appears to be a very solid looking roof over your head.

You have to blink several times to convince yourself that, yes, the two of you are now inside of a very ugly looking room with boring, greyish walls that jaggedly meets the ground of the pavilion. What isnt boring however, are the myriad of sex toys and tools scattered on the far side of the kitschy dining tables. Oh yes indeedy. You two are now inside of a makeshift sex dungeon.

Karkat gives you an accusatory glare.

You hold up your hands in mock surrender.

“It wasn’t me.”

“That’s okay, I’m totally fine with taking all the credit here,” an unseen voice announces.

You and Karkat snap your heads to where the entrance to the dining area once was to see a very familiar (aggravating) face; Sollux.

He’s standing there looking smug right where the glass doors used to be, dry as a bone. He’s dressed in his usual black shirt and jeans.

You grit your teeth and say, “You’re too early.”

To this, Sollux snorts lightly and starts floating over to you and Karkat, pushing tables out of his way with bursts of his bicolored psionic powers, as though he couldn’t even be assed to go around them.

He was supposed to be at homebase waiting for his cue to come in after the dinner, and you and Karkat could consummate your future relationship in all manner of freaky, sexy ways. That was the PLAN.

“Is that anyway to thank the troll who decide to spare you some of your shame? It was so pitiful that even I had to jump quadrants to put this sad barkbeast out of its misery.”

“Fuck you, Captor,” you snap.

It’s only seeing your (probably) kismesis that's aggravating you, nothing to do with you and your date being soaking wet and every possible thing that could have gone wrong, in fact did. Or a large enough percentage of everything for this to count as a total failure on your part to seal the deal with your crabby cakes. You wanted to prove that you can be constructive, be the best for him, and show off your date planning skills without any outside help. Also, you wanted to propose to your matesprit-forwardslash-boyfriend. Ironic yet sincere and _ perfect. _

“Take your clothes off, DK,” Sollux commands.

“No,” you say, but you already have your suit-coat half off and your buttons popped. Perhaps the sudden shock has left you confused; retreat and regroup-

“Yes.” Sollux drifts forward. His hands come up to cup your face, fingers running gently over your cheekbones. You don’t blush, _ don’t blush dammit. _ He tells you, “Humans annoy me. Why are you so fragile that being wet can make you ill? But I can whip you twice as hard as Karkat without breaking you, a stark dichotomy. Take your clothes off.”

You shiver, tugging urgently at your shirt. It sticks to your chest and arms, but you manage to wrestle it off. Stupidly, you think Sollux is going to help with your pants or maybe grope you. Instead, he grabs the small box from your inventory and casually tosses it to Karkat.

Every part of your brain screams in some flavor of horror. _ Your plans. _ Your detailed date, your MASTER ROMANCE. You lunge for Karkat, but you’re caught by brittle troll arms reinforced with blue lightning.

“No Captor I will kick your bony ass let me go I swear on Jesus don’t open that no stop.”

Predictably, Karkat pops the lid open. A thick, gold band with an orange sapphire folded into the metal sits all proudlike on the velvet surface. Karkat makes a strange face, eyebrows scrunched and ears twitching, something entirely trollish, and you don’t know how to read it.

Laughter would be something you can handle. Rejection? Sure, it would hurt like a motherfucker at first, but it’s something with which you are familiar and comprehend. If the look on Karkat’s face is confusion, however...

“Karkat,” you gasp, trying and failing to wiggle yourself free of your Captor.

Your boyfriend finally lifts his gaze up from the box in his hand, eyes locking on hard with yours.

Please understand, please don’t be mad, please don’t hate me-

“Shush, shush. No time for muttering now, Dirk,” Sollux croons.

Fuck him. Fuck him squared.

Silently, Karkat gets up from his seat and walks around your table (the only one Sollux didn’t bother moving out of the way) to you. Now he stands in front of you with his head slightly tilted back to me your line of sight. 

“Is this what you were freaking the fuck out about all night?”

You can’t meet his eyes.

Karkat sighs. “You’ve probably seen Peixes and Zahaak dress their quadrantmates with their own blood color. For some farce of protection? Or ownership? Other highbloods used to call that shit depraved and weak. They didn’t respect it unless they feared the troll enough. It didn’t make up for inequality, even if it was shallowly romantic, and that’s obviously not what you want.”

You find yourself stilling in Sollux’s grasp, hanging onto Karkat’s every word. Sollux keeps himself busy by mouthing phantom touches onto the sensitive spots of your neck. Or maybe those are more of his psionics; you aren’t paying any attention.

“To be completely fucking honest, I was too much of a stupid bitch back then to tell anyone my real blood color, even less so suffer double what those gogdamed drones would’ve handed me for any fickle quadrantmates I sided with. Especially Eridan; why the literal hell did he have so many ugly, caeger-engorged enemies. They were always orphans too.”

Your heart seizes up in your chest and you can feel the despair rising from the pit of your stomach, but choose to say nothing.

“Don’t break our little human here, KK,” Sollux snickers. “Just get to the damn point.”

“Shut up you giant nookwhiffer, I’m getting there. I just want to make sure it’s clear that human ring contracts aren’t the fucking same as Alternian ownership contracts, or I’ll be eating my own turgid socks later.”

This is it, this is the end.

“Because Alternia is long fucking gone.”

Karkat has closed the distance between you, leaning on his toes in order to wrap his arms around you. His smell and warmth wrap around you and make you feel a tiny bit heady.

“So...”

“So, you fucking knucklehead, what I’m trying to say is that I want to be your partner, and not just a romance guy or a sellout. A guy you can depend on and share those hair-brained schemes of yours with even if they make my panmatter melt into goop via contagious stupidity. That’s what humans do, right? I made you like this, and I’m so fucking proud.”

Karkat leans in very close. You want him to kiss you.

“Will you, Dirk Strider, let me take care of you?”

You shiver. _ “Yes.” _

“A-hem.”

Karkat adds, “Not that you should dump Sollux to human marry me, even if he’s being more of a prick than usual.”

“Thank you.”

Yes. Yes yes yes yes yes withallofyourheart _ yes- _

“Yes.”

Your proposal got hijacked twice over, and you couldn’t be more happy.

Karkat smiles. “Good… Kiss me?”

You obey without another thought, diving into his mouth which you have been dying to taste again all throughout dinner. You can feel the rumble of Sollux’s laughter from behind you. It’s surprisingly comforting. 

“What kind of chucklefuck burns up all the midnight oil on pointless schemes like this? It’s dumb. KK woulda said yes if you just asked.” Sollux gives you a squeeze. “Congratulations.”

~~~

Pressed up to you, it’s difficult not to be distracted by the damp clothes Karkat is still wearing. It’s cold and clammy. Definitely gotta go.

You start unbuttoning his shirt, but your wrists lock in place. A bright blue band of energy sizzles over your wrists. You shoot a questioning brow at Sollux. “Bro?”

“You’re off the clock now, DK. KK is officially directing this inane play until your pan is on straight. Unless you call the usual cluckbeast.. ‘kitchen,’ was it?”

“Chicken. Is how it’s pronounced; I’m not calling chicken. Shit, go right ahead. Do whatever you want with me, Karkat. I am so down. Unless I’m jumping to conclusions. Romantic stuff doesn’t have to include sexy stuff, no need to feel pressured.”

Karkat growls, “Stuff it, puppetperv. You aren’t fucking forcing me to do shit, I’m in charge now, so quit gnawing your own claws off in worry… but, thanks.” He loses steam, mumbling the last bit. “I want to sleep with my new human wife.”

You laugh in surprise, “Human husband, except I’m not that either yet… Holy fuck, I’m going to have a sexy husband.”

Karkat bites your mouth, possibly to shut you up. It’s not particularly effective; you croon loudly. You can’t help it. It feels too good having teeth prick at your skin and a raspy tongue drag over mouth. You’d think a guy would get used to kissing aliens, but no. Somehow, it’s more exciting every time.

Casually, Karkat shoves the rest of the plates off of the table. He asks Sollux, “We can stick him to this, right?”

“Easily.”

You’re hefted up; it feels gentle, like being lifted by a mattress. Sollux’s psionics support your weight evenly across your body. Then, the direction reverses. A soft pressure pins you to the table. You’re being served up as delicious dessert, and you can’t move a muscle.  
  
The blue energy parts for Karkat as he lifts your hips and peels your suit pants off, but immediately floods back over you, unending like a river. The delicate act requires heavy concentration from Sollux.

You offer, “Use physical restraints. There are plenty on the far wall there. You can play around more then.”

Sollux tuts, “So you can break them or slide out? Nice try, meatslave.” The haze around your midriff turns red, zapping you for your insolence. “Besides, this is more fun.”

The surrounding air crackles with power. You _really _aren’t in charge anymore, and your captors are going to do whatever the hell they want with you. Your shoulders slump against the table, a metaphorical weight gone. Nothing for you to do but watch Karkat strip then.

And strip he does, not bothering to make a show of it. In a breath, he’s crawled on top of you.

You lay there, grinning like an idiot as Karkat frames your legs with his (fuckin’ strong) thighs. Fuck, you want to say something stupid, you’re going to say something stupid. Oh shit, here it comes.

“You gonna vore whole me with that look, babe? Or are you gonna make sure you savor me real slow?”

Awesome, mission accomplished, idiot.

With the patience that only comes with being a literal descendent of troll Jesus, Karkat ignores your comment and starts kissing your neck. Mmmm. Hot lips trail over your pulse and the hollow of your throat. Meanwhile, Sollux has taken to stroking your wet hair and rubbing your shoulders. Using only the pads of his thumbs he kneads away some knots in the back of your neck. You had no idea they were there. A moan slips past your lips and Karkat grinds his crotch down onto yours at the sound. Fuck, you’re already parked firmly into bonerville. You should be ashamed for springing up so fast, but- let’s face it- letting go this quickly makes it that much more hot. _ He said yes. _

“Hey, KK, I think he likes this.”

Karkat grunts. 

Slowly, almost _ painfully _ slow, your hubby-to-be makes his way down, kissing every inch of your chest and belly. Little grazes of fox teeth make your breath stutter inside of your lungs. Sollux finds himself bored with massaging your neck, he decides to reach down and give one of your nipples a pinch. 

“Nghh- shit!”

Your hips buck up a little bit on their own only for those damn psionics to force them back down. It’s frustrating as all hell, but you have to be good. It’s your turn to lay back and enjoy. It’s hot, hot, hot. Karkat nibbles on the skin of your inner thighs, you’re going to go crazy. You can’t help fearing his bite. It makes your dick twitch like mad.

“Relax, you giant fucking wriggler,” Karkat growls. “You’ll get what you want when I allow it.”

Finally, fucking _ finally, _ the tease takes pity on you and rolls down your underwear. Your cock springs out of its confines. Hello there, little Dirk, it’s nice to see you again. 

“Gog, you humans have the weirdest genitalia,” Sollux sneers.

Right now, you really couldn’t give a shit, though, or you’d mentally flip off the fucker. He’s still playing with your chest because he knows it drives you nuts, and the guy is a beautiful sadist. 

You look down quickly, and your breath catches as Karkat places a reverent kiss on your dick. His eyes are half lidded, and the flush on his cheeks makes his face look nearly human- if not for those teeth. Thankfully, he already knows what to do when playing with your delicate skin.

Karkat licks a long, languid line from ball to tip, looking impishly at you. You’re thankful for the blue energy holding all of your weight, because your limbs would feel like pure jelly without the help. Your crabby cakes takes you in hand and begins to tug on you ever so gently, in time with his little licks. He never once takes you into his fiery mouth, however. The fear would turn your boner into a soggy banana. More so than it was during the rain, anyway.

You think Karkat is playing with himself, but you can’t _see,_ ugh. Sollux has a firm hold on you, and you can’t do much more than writhe, can’t even grab onto anything. You let out a pretty damn pathetic whine after a strong suck to your tip.

“B-babe.”

You don’t notice Sollux moving until he’s at your left, reaching to frame your face in his hands. He’s grinning down at you like one of the many grubs he would poke and prod during the programming process, like you’re a puzzle he’s confident that he solved. You're not sure if its a good or bad look on him. Good, you decide, as the jerk leans down to silence your moans with his mouth.

God, if kissing trolls is still weird to you, then kissing Sollux has to be in the top ten weirdest shit you’ve experienced in your life thus far. 

You refuse to admit it, but it takes time to fall into a rhythm with Sollux during makeouts. It’s moderately difficult to keep up with both sides of his tongue constantly vying for attention at the same damn time, running across your palette. He minds his teeth quite a bit less than Karkat, finding pleasure in nipping you hard with his fangs. Good thing you’re ALWAYS down to play rough.

Karkat keeps stroking your spit-slick dick, and your skin feels like its about to burst into flames. You try to (unwisely) buck into Karkat’s hand again, you want more, but instead the bastard pulls away.

He ‘tsks.

“Karkat, fuck, please-”

You do not, under any circumstances, squeak like a little bitch when he pinches your inner thigh. Sollux snorts because he can’t help being a gross piece of shit.

“Dirk. Hey, dipstick, look at me.”

Oh, you must have closed your eyes again, dammit. Sollux draws back, allowing Karkat to look up at you. 

You swallow down any protests. The look he’s giving you is too open, too goddamn tender. It hurts to look at.

“Yeah?”

“You need to trust me. I’m not gonna leave you dry-“

“Unless you want to,” Sollux adds.

Karkat grumbles, “Sure, whatever. I’m pretty damn sure Dirk will like this, though. Roll him over, Sollux.”

“Pay me first?”

“I’m not gonna give you a damn caegar. That’s Dirk’s job.”

Oh man. Sexy anticipation underlined with uncertainty is making your gut do so many flip flops. For once, Sollux obeys without another interjection. You feel yourself being lifted up. Even with care, the ceiling becomes the floor a little too fast, and it takes you a minute to regain your bearings.

“Good, now on your hands and knees,” Karkat orders.

The blue psionics allow you enough give to get yourself into position. You keep your head up and focus on your hot fiance’s commands. Rarely is he ever this domineering with you. Well. Okay, he can be a bossy little fuck, but thats more adorable than anything when he thinks he can get you to do shit by saying it again louder. (He can.) Right now, he’s a totally different person. 

He gives your ass an appreciative squeeze that feels way too good. Even better is when Karkat leans over your back to whisper hotly into your ear.

“You’ll be good for me and not bite Sollux despite how tempting it is, right? You’re gonna be good for the two of us?”

You nod your head and sob in relief as you feel Karkat’s slick length twine around your dick.

Sollux floats in front of you, high enough that your eyes are level with his jeans. He unzips, and his two yellow bulges pour from him sheathe. Challenge accepted. You practically invented sucking dick in your timeline, and then you perfected it. At least, that’s what you tell Dave.

“Ready for your reward, human?” Sollux asks, all feigned innocence.

You respond by taking the two tips of the douche’s weird alien junk into your mouth.

Christ, it’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted. You’ve absolutely sucked Karkat off before and done a little bump n’ grind with twizzler dick here, but you’ve never given him a Strider special. Okay, you take back whatever it is that you said about kissing Sollux. This one has rocketed up to top nine weirdest-shit easily. 

You take your time exploring him. Or the parts of him that aren’t constantly squirming, rather. He’s a little bit longer and thinner than Karkat but makes up for it in sheer dexterity, goddamn.

You’re pretty certain that Sollux could solve a rubix cube and write code at the same time with his dick, if it wasn’t busy running over your tongue and cheeks.

Showing some semblance of courtesy, Sollux lets you set the pacing. If your positions were reversed, you would have deepthroated him by now. That’s for another time, though. You suck him good and tease the area where his dick forks off, earning yourself delicious little shudders from him. You want to be good for Sollux and Karkat both, you want so badly to please them in this moment. If they let you.

Meanwhile, Karkat has started working himself into a rhythm with you, pulling your hips against his almost-fluttery motions. He uses his claws. It hurts enough to keep you from _ completely _flying off into a state of being fucked out of your head. You want to savor it.

Not yet.

Your hands shake on top of the table, still frustratingly held in place. You’re only able to touch Sollux’s dick with your mouth. You get creative, angling your head to chase his moving hips. Sollux remains silent, the only indication of your success from him gripping your hair tighter. His breath gets erratic and he falls out of time with Karkat. It makes you suck on him faster- you want him to come over you so badly, want to see his face when he marks you up. But you can’t focus, you never had a _ chance. _

Karkat’s breath is hot and heavy with the rest of him rubbing against your back. You love having him so close, you love this scalding heat, you love _ him _. You can feel your orgasm just around the corner, you can’t keep this up, you want to let go-

You pull off of Sollux.

“K-Karkat, _ huff, _ Christ. You’re too. Good. Gonna make a mess, babe.”

You can feel Karkat’s growl rumble in your spine, and his hips stutter. His bulge thrashes around you wildly, squeezing your dick too hard, perfectly hard. You love how it flicks your head every other beat.

He slows down, he’s trying to edge you, but it doesn’t work. You come, and your body goes all tingly, whited-out, and your hips buck. There is nothing standing between you and sheer fucking ecstasy. You want so desperately to give into gravity and slump over into the well fucked pile of limbs you are, but your lovers have yet to finish using you, haven’t let go of you yet.

You’re ripped back into reality when Sollux fists the back of your head while fiercely jerking himself. He looks down at you with half glazed eyes while licking his lips. Karkat holds you possessively to his chest as he whispers sweet words of praise into your ear. You half-moan, half-sob. It echoes around the makeshift room completely uninhibited, as neither troll bothers to cover your loud mouth.

Sollux shudders, and you squeeze your eyes shut. He paints your face in warm stripes, finishing with a sharp exhale.

He loses his grip on his psionics, shocking you before the restraints dissipate altogether. 

Karkat takes his time finishing up, and you’re oversensitive, the squeezes and tugs make your eyes water, twitching, but it’s worth it. You feel him tighten around your already spent dick like a wisteria vine. You aren’t sure if Karkat says your name, but it doesn’t matter because the soft tone is more than enough.

\---

As per usual, you are the first to rise out of your sex-drunk haze and shake the other two, demanding to be cleaned up. Reluctantly, they both oblige. Sollux acts unhurried and picks up your damp suit, admiring his handiwork all over your face then smothering you. Karkat gives you once last squeeze around your midsection before standing up. He returns with some of the restaurant’s fancy napkins and makes quick work of both your red and white stomachs. Damn, if only Sollux had blue jizz, then you could claim that every time you boned, it was all in the name of patriotism for a lost nation.

You discover the benefit of Sollux dropping your sex dungeon on the pavilion instead of at home: SOUP. Karkat retrieves a bowl and feeds you spoonfuls, making soft croons. However, the dungeon didn’t really come equipped with any other surfaces to lay down on. (It was supposed to be more of a backdrop once you and Karkat got home from your DATE and PROPOSAL, instead of a barrier keeping rain and other patrons out. The toys and chains lining the walls are real, though. Sollux did pretty well coding it.) Anyways, the three of you are left to kinda awkwardly lounge on this one table, and it’s pretty uncomfortable without the blue haze of support.

You and Karkat bitch about it enough for Sollux to get fed up and lift the three of you lifted into a weirdly comfy psionic cocoon. You can feel both trolls’ weight nudging into your sides as if you were trying to share a hammock. You don’t mind mind the contact. 

From behind you, Sollux is the first to break the silence.

“So does this make you two human married now?”

You’re still too hazy and cuddly (read lazy) to focus on giving him a real answer, so you nudge Karkat.

“Well, babe? Are you my troll waifu yet or what?”

“Fuck off. You are well aware that the process is a long, damn tedious set of trials that the couple must execute before their official binding ceremony. I refuse to break even one foreign tradition, and that is final.”

You don’t bother hiding your smile, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“Damn right. Anything you want, you got it, kitten. Yours truly in a big, poofy dress? Done. Giant bouquet of red roses? It’s getting tossed. Want to carry me over the threshold of our lovenest? I’m there. Missionary style for our wedding night? Yo-

Face flushed, Karkat socks you in the shoulder to stop your rant, but the deed is already done.

“For real though, we’ll still need my parents approval before going any further. What kind of girl do you think I am?” 

“One who likes getting spit-roasted by aliens in pseudo-public,” Sollux answers.

Karkat’s face pales. He says, “You are _ not _ making me ask _ Dave and Rose _ for permission. I know what parents are by now you moron, and they need a hundred years of self reflection to be half as mature as a parent.”

“Kanaya asked me n’ Roxy for Rose’s hand. So intimate, I couldn’t stop crying from all the emotions of the moment.”

“You laughed your ass off for an hour straight, you mean. She told me about it.”

“Tradition is tradition and you will barter for my maidenhood and that’s final.”

Sollux let’s out an obnoxious yawn in your ear before shifting lightly. He asks, “Can we talk about your dumb old earth rituals later? I wanna nap.”

To be honest, that sounds like a fantastic fucking idea, even if its from Sollux. You only _ just _ got fucked out of your mind, just a few more hours of hedonism before you get back into planning.

You give Karkat peck on the nose and say, “We have an abundance of time, stuffs on the discount rack. Later?”

He grumbles purely out of habit before snuggling his head under your chin.

“Later,” he sighs.

Sure, you do still have to plan your escape from this pavillion without clean clothes or an explanation as to what (they’ll know exactly what) is all over the restaurant's napkins and tablecloth. Maybe a fat enough tip will keep the staff silent. Or maybe you’ll all just walk out naked together and pretend nothing happened, like you didn’t drop a sex dungeon over the dining area. Videogames be like that sometimes. 

Not that any of that matters quite yet. Plus, you have the option of letting Sollux fix his own shit for once.

The three of you settle into each others’ dents and curves and fall asleep to the sound of your shared breath.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> For muchlessvermillion, hope you enjoyed!!! I hope sol & dirk make it farther in their relationship so they can get married too :o


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